Page 409 of Glass (Crank 2)

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my own dreams

vaporize.

Don’t Get Me Wrong

I do understand my parents wanting only

the best for me.

Am one hundred percent tuned to the concept

that life is a hell of a lot more enjoyable

fun with a fast-

flowing stream of money carrying you

along. I like driving a pricey car, wearing

clothes that feel

like they want to be next to my skin.

I love not having to be a living, breathing

stereotype because

of my color. Anytime I happen to think

about it, I am grateful to my grandparents

for their vision.

Grateful to my mom for her smarts,

to my father for his bald ambition,

and, yes, greed.

Not to mention unreal intuition.

My Grandfather

Andre Marcus Kane Sr. embraced

the color of his skin,

refused to let it straitjacket

him. He grew up in the urban

California nightmare

called Oakland, with its rutted

asphalt and crumbling cement

and frozen dreams,

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